come into the light
by Nevertheend127
Summary: Skye loses all control.


The team meets Ward again in Russia.

It's months later. Skye can still feel vibrations from the gun ringing in her fingers. It makes her joints ache and her hands tremble to remember it. How Ward slumped to the ground, eyes glassy, shocked and betrayed. Like he actually didn't see this coming.

But she can't be concerned with Ward right now. She's angry at him sure, but it's not exactly safe for her to be angry right now. It's not exactly safe for her to be feeling anything right now. Last week, her toast popped up while she was immersed in thought, and she was so startled she sent off a jolt that tore up the floor tiles.

Fortunately, Russia is a pretty neutralizing environment. People keep shooting at them, admittedly. But Skye is learning that the icy cold seems to have stablized her- or at least is working to keep her powers occupied. Her skin is humming under a light jacket, hearbeat buzzing to keep her blood warm, energy compact and safe within her body, where it can be monitored and controlled.

She, May and Fitz are balanced together on the wing of the Bus, trying to get a signal. Whoever crashed their plane can't be far off, and it's not best to be out in the open like this, but they need to get a connection so Hunter and Mack will know to send a team after them.

"This place gives me the creeps." Fitz remarks obviously, fiddling with an armload of unrecognizable equipment he'd brought along to amplify Skye's signal.

"Agreed." A voice echos over the radio, (Simmons) and May rolls her eyes.

"How did this even happen?" Skye wonders alive, banging her fist weakly against the pad of her laptop. "You'd have to have some pretty impressive tech-skills to... this couldn't be Hydra, could it?" She feels like she's asked that question before, but no one could answer it.

"Maybe." May conceeds, but she looks doubtful. "If it were Hydra, we'd probably have heard from them by now."

"Maybe it's Ward." Simmons chirps over the comm system.

"Ward." Skye spits out his name like a curse. "God, I hope not."

"Snow's pretty." Fitz observes placidly, leaning back against the bulk of the plane to rest. Skye follows his line of sight and feels her fingers falter, letting herself get distracted.

The landscape reminds her of sleepy, snow-blanketed villages she's seen embroidered into blankets and painted around christmastime. A lacework of snow-strewn branches block out a white sky, beautiful and blindingly bright. She can't see her computer screen very well anyways.

There are gunshots and Simmons screams over the comm system.

Fitz reacts even faster than May, scrambling down from the edge of the wing and onto the hard-packed ice. He skids and tumbles before bolting out of sight.

Skye's laptop is upturned. She yells and falls after them, with May's hand wrenching around her arm to steady her.

"C'mon." The cavalry slams a pistol into her stomach, sending jolts of pain through old wounds. "They're here."

May takes off after Fitz, and Skye stumbles after them.

The plane wheels rattle where they're burried in the snow, sheets of metal plating clanging heavily. The ground quakes, and Skye's not even sure she wants it to stop.

Fitz is at the entrance, skidding over black ice. "Jemma!" He shouts into the comm, into open air, but there's no answer. "Jemma!"

Ward. Of course it's Ward, who else would it be? Because this is apparently her life now, fighting demented ex-sort-of-boyfriends and struggling with inhuman powers. This is the new normal.

Ward is blocking the entrance to the lab, where Simmons is trapped behind the glass. She looks fine, aside from her hands. They're reddened from where she's beat them against the door.

Ward is merely smirking, arms folded and leaning against the door. Cleaning his pistol with the hem of his shirt.

Skye follows his line of sight- at the top of the spiral staircase, Agent 33 is perched and ready with a gun in each hand.

"We're not here to hurt any of you." He addresses May primarily, acknowledging her as the leader. Usually he only talks to Skye. "We just want some codes, and then we''ll be out of your way."

"What are you doing here?" Skye spits out through her teeth. "Where's Agent Morse?"

Ward doesn't look at her right away. Cocks his gun, pauses, then slowly turns his downcast eyes towards her. Lets his gaze linger on the dark bruises that web over her skin. Smirks.

Whatever he ever felt for her, everything they had.

It's dead.

There's no love left in his eyes. Maybe there never was.

He never said he loved her. And as sick as it makes her, she's also a little sad. No one's ever said that to her, aside from the few controlling post-highschool boyfriends she had never believed.

And she wants to hear it from him.

"What codes?" Fitz breaks the terse silence, his eyes still locked on Simmons. "Where's Bobbi?"

"Apparently you're hiding some valuable weapon. We were hired to take care of it." Ward explains offhandedly, as if the details of blackmarket commerce aren't worth mentioning.

"What are you talking about?" May snarls.

"Somebody's put up a lot of money for us to steal something in your possession. Something world-ending. They're calling it "Quake.'" He elaborates.

"We don't have what you're looking for." May sounds so defensive.

"What are you..." Fitz begins. His gaze drifts towards Skye, and she's hit with a sickening realization of dread. She's a weapon now. Right.

"It's me." Skye interjects weakly. "They want me."

Silence. Everything seems to freeze for the first time since her powers manifested. For once, she feels like nothing is moving, everything peaceful and still. Then in shatters, and so does her control.

"You weren't... you didn't change." Ward insists, frowning slightly. He turns slightly, and the hem of his shirt tugs up, revealing the padded gauze on his side. "You're still..."

"I went down to save Coulson." Skye says weakly. "I..."

It's warm in the bus. Simmons had wrenched the thermostat up to ridiculous temperatures and bundled herself in out-of-season sweaters in defense from the cold. The energy Skye's been using to keep herself warm is making her bones ache. Her teeth vibrate in her skull and energy ripples up her spine, power pulsing in her blood.

"Skye." May hisses warningly. "Don't negotiate. You're not going anywhere."

"Where's Coulson?" Ward asks, sounding suddenly interested.

"Stay away from her!" May's voice rings out. "Don't come near her. Skye, get behind- Skye!"

There's the grating screech of metal on metal, and the hanger doors crumple like dead leaves. The ground rattles and shakes, tearing up slats of metal and panelling, and...

She can't make it stop. Trying to force everything inwards, but her bones can't hold out any longer, bruises deepening and marrow splintering with every shock of vibrations.

Ward looks into his eyes, and he understands.

"Skye..." He breathes.

Then the ceiling comes down.


End file.
